Batman: Genesis
by RisingSun0000
Summary: An idea of what Bruce's last day with his parents might have been like, leading up to that fateful night.


Batman: Genesis

The night that changed Bruce Wayne's life forever started like any other day at Wayne Manor, near Gotham City, USA. It was a day that began-and-ran like every other day. Little did eight-year-old Bruce Wayne know, it would be the last truly happy, and/or "normal" day he would ever know. Dawn had already occurred a few minutes earlier. Bruce lay on his bed, the smile on his eight-year-old face indicating he was in the middle of an amusing dream. As the sunlight began to cross his face, he stirred, and woke.

He glanced out the window, and smiled, seeing it was going to be a beautiful autumn Saturday. He lay like this for a few minutes, gazing out the window at the beautiful meadow that surrounded Wayne Manor. The mansion that he called home. The mansion that he lived in with his parents, the prominent Dr. Thomas Wayne, and Martha Wayne, and their butler Alfred Pennyworth. He knew he was a lucky boy.

A light knock at his door drew his attention. A dignified, but gentle British accent spoke. It was that of the family butler, Alfred Pennyworth. "Master Bruce? Are you awake, young sir?" "Good morning, Alfred," Bruce replied, getting out of his bed, and drawing on his robe over his pajamas.

"Good morning, young sir," Alfred replied warmly as he opened the bedroom door. "Sleep well, lad?" "I slept wonderfully, thank you," Bruce said as he returned the smile. He loved Alfred. He had served the Waynes before Bruce's birth. He was as much a family member and friend both as an employee.

Alfred nodded. "Splendid, lad. Do come downstairs in five minutes and join me and Dr. and Mrs. Wayne, dear boy, for breakfast. I've prepared your favourite: blueberry pancakes." Bruce's eyes lit up. _You're right about that,_ Bruce thought. _That is my favorite breakfood food._ "I will dress and come immediately, Alfred," Bruce said happily. "Lovely, lad," Alfred replied. "See you there," he said as he closed the door.

Bruce happily headed for the restroom nearby to dress and head downstairs for breakfast. This was going to be a special day, he knew. As he selected the outfit he had picked out last night hanging on the door hook and began to change into it, that of a flat cap, matching suit and tie, leather shiny dress shoes, and overcoat, he thought excitedly about what he and his parents would be doing that day and evening. It was going to be a special day and evening alright.

Upon dressing, Bruce immediately bounded down the stairs toward the dining room. "Bruce! Good morning, son," Dr. Thomas Wayne greeted from the breakfast table as he read the morning newspaper. "Good morning, honey," Mrs. Martha Wayne added as she smiled at her son from her seat at the table next to her husband's, Alfred pouring her coffee. "Good morning mom and dad," Bruce chirped happily. "Excited about today?" his father asked.

"Totally!" Bruce replied eagerly. "So am I, son," Dr. Wayne replied, taking a sip of his coffee. "This is one of the rare days I ever get off to spend with you all." Bruce nodded, understanding completely. His father was one of the most highly respected men in Gotham City. He was considered one of the best physicians of the city, and his schedule was in high demand at the hospital. "What's first on the agenda?" Mrs. Wayne asked, also taking a sip of her coffee. "Let's see," Dr. Wayne replied, examining a page of the paper.

Dr. Wayne was a very handsome, dignified man, with a direct, yet gentle demeanor. Intelligence, benevolence, compassion, and empathy, all blazed in his eyes. It was one the factors that made him an excellent doctor, with his excellent bedside manner, as attested to by his colleagues and countless patients at Gotham Memorial Hospital. Mrs. Wayne was a very beautiful woman with boundless generosity for her fellow humans, as many in Gotham would agree, those who had received the Waynes' philanthropy. It was also these factors that made them ideal parents for young Bruce. He knew he was blessed.

"Yes, first, we'll see the circus," Dr. Wayne said, reading the scheduled events. "Afterwards, we may take a ride with a horse and carriage, then lunch at our favorite Italian restaurant." Bruce beamed as he listened, as did Mrs. Wayne. "Here we are, loves," Alfred said, wheeling a dining cart into the dining room, with covered dishes atop. Bruce's face lit up.

Alfred placed a covered dish before Dr. Wayne, and then, Mrs. Wayne, and finally, Bruce. _My favorite_ , Bruce thought. Alfred lifted the cover off Bruce's dish, revealing, sure enough, three blueberry pancakes, complete with syrup in a spout. Bruce was delighted, but remembered the morning custom in the household before a meal. As Alfred lifted the covers off of each Dr. Wayne, and Mrs. Wayne's dishes, Dr. Wayne said, "Let us say grace."

All bowed their heads dutifully. Dr. Wayne intoned, "Dear Heavenly Father, bless this meal we are about to receive, and bless this day ahead of us, in Christ's name, amen." "Amen," Bruce, Alfred, and Mrs. Wayne added. "This looks divine, Alfred," Mrs. Wayne said, approving her breakfast before her. "Why thank you, ma'am. It is a new recipe I decided to try. I do you like." "Anything prepared by you is heavenly, my dear friend," she said, smiling at the beloved butler and friend.

"Well, let's dig in, and head to the car," Dr. Wayne said. Bruce and Mrs. Wayne nodded as the Wayne family began to devour their meals. Alfred joined in with his own meal of blueberry pancakes alongside Bruce at the table. Bruce smiled happily. He knew it was going to be a day and evening he would never forget.

After breakfast, the Waynes waited outside the double front doors of the mansion, while they waited for Alfred to drive the car around. It was a beautiful, cloudless day, but chilly. All were well dressed, with Dr. Wayne in a similar suit to his son's and overcoat, and Mrs. Wayne in her best dress and pearl necklace and matching hat. Alfred pulled around in the Rolls-Royce Silver Wraith, a 1950 model.

"Pile in, my loves," Alfred said, smiling at the Wayne family. He knew he was blessed, with such friends who he regarded also as family, and they likewise regarded him as family. Bruce and Mrs. Wayne each sat in the backseat, and Dr. Wayne in the passenger seat next to Alfred. "Lovely day, isn't it, sir?" Alfred asked. "Absolutely," Dr. Wayne agreed.

The traffic wasn't too heavy for a Saturday, which was rare, but a nice advantage, which allowed them plenty of time to arrive at the circus ahead of the traffic. Upon arriving, Dr. Wayne instructed, "Pick us up at noon, Alfred." "Very good sir," Alfred replied, driving away. "Well, we're one of the first parties here," Dr. Wayne said. "Let's get seated, shall we?" Mrs. Wayne and Bruce nodded, as Dr. Wayne purchased three tickets for them all, and they entered the gate.

They had a wonderful time observing the circus, and when they exited at five minutes to noon, Dr. Wayne asked, "What did you think of the circus, Bruce?" "It was awesome! I loved the Flying Graysons!" Dr. Wayne and Mrs. Wayne chuckled. "So did we, son," Dr. Wayne replied. Just then, Alfred pulled up, ready to receive them. "Well, again, we're one of the first out. Let's beat the traffic, shall we?" as the three of them took their seats in the car, Alfred driving away from the circus.

"What next?" Mrs. Wayne asked. "Well...yes. Bruce, would you like to take that carriage ride I mentioned?" Dr. Wayne asked. Bruce perked up. "Totally!" he replied. "So would we," Dr. Wayne replied. Alfred pulled over at a curb.

"Hello, Dr. Wayne," a man said, sitting atop a carriage, in front of which two beautiful horses were hitched. "Hello, would you mind giving me and my wife and son a ride?" Dr. Wayne replied. "I'd be honored, sir," the man said, as the Wayne family boarded the carriage. The man slapped the reins, and the horses began to travel forward.

It was a fun hour ride, followed by lunch at their favorite Italian restaurant, after which the three of them purchased a cotton candy each. Dr. Wayne said, "Ah, yes. Bruce, remember the show you mentioned at the theater you'd like to see, 'Zorro,' was it?" "Yeah, dad!" Bruce replied excitedly. Dr. Wayne nodded. "Would you like to see it tonight?" "Oh, yes," Bruce replied. "Can we?" "Of course, son," Dr. Wayne replied with a smile.

For the next few hours, the Waynes strolled Gotham, either window shopping, or actually purchasing a few items for them each. Through it all, none of them felt tired. Bruce was having a wonderful day. He felt very blessed with such wonderful parents and a faithful butler friend, and a great home. Finally, it was time to head to the Monarch theater for the show Bruce wanted to see.

The Monarch was perhaps the most popular theater in Gotham City, as attested by its high attendance, and being one of the first buildings raised in Gotham. It was a very beautiful building with a gothic architecture. The Wayne arrived in line, which thankfully wasn't too long a wait, and Dr. Wayne purchased their tickets. The Waynes then passed through the turnstyles and headed to their designated seats. A few minutes later, the lights dimmed, and the show began.

Bruce loved the musical, as did his parents. When the show ended, and the cast took their bows, Bruce and the Waynes applauded wildly. As the crowd filed out of the theater, Mrs. Wayne asked her son, "What did you think, dear?" "It was great!" Bruce replied. "Zorro is awesome!"

Dr. Wayne and Mrs. Wayne smiled at their son. "I agree, son," Dr. Wayne replied. "But what makes Zorro heroic is how he uses his abilities, and the person he is behind them." Bruce nodded. His father had a point. He was so blessed with them.

"Well, it's a fine, clear night," Dr. Wayne said, glancing skyward. "Let's take a walk before we catch a cab." Bruce and his mother agreed. The three of them began to walk down the sidewalk. It had grown chillier since dark fell, but their overcoats provided a much welcome warmth.

A radio could be heard playing somewhere. A woman laughed, the sound drifting from a second story window. The further they walked, Bruce began to feel an omnious pall, a bad feeling. Suddenly, the family heard quick footsteps behind them. This was a huge city with a large population, but these steps were too methodical. Too...deliberate.

The three of them tensed. "Tom," Mrs. Wayne said. Her voice was hushed, but fearful. "There's someone following us." Her expression and the look in her eyes mirrored what Bruce felt: fear. They began to run.

They stopped upon reaching an alley. A man with a gun stood there, grinning in a way Bruce didn't like. The owner of the footsteps behind them appeared, also with a gun. He joined the first man, grinning in a similar way. But their eyes did not smile, reflecting only the glow of the street lamps.

For a long moment, nothing happened, both parties staring at each other. Then, the second punk grabbed the string of pearls around Mrs. Wayne's neck. Dr. Wayne bravely tried to grab the punk's arm. Suddenly, a horrible noise rang out, and a bright light exploded, both half deafening and for an instant, yet an eternity, blinding Bruce, sending him into a stupor of shock. And then Dr. Wayne fell onto the pavement.

"TOM!" Mrs. Wayne screamed. The horrible noise and the white light repeated, the killer's eyes reflecting nothing but the flash, followed by silence, save for the bullet casing clinking on the pavement. Mrs. Wayne fell to the pavement beside her husband. Bruce returned to reality, finally understanding what the horrible noises were. Gunshots. A sound he would remember forever.

As he opened his eyes, he stared in horror at the man with the gun who had fired. The second kid ran away. The first pointed his gun right at Bruce. He stepped forward, revealing his face in the moonlight, that evil grin. The gun cocked again.

His finger pressed lightly on the trigger. Bruce closed his eyes. But nothing happened. No sound came. "C'mon," a voice yelled from the darkness. It was the voice of the second punk.

"Let's go!" the second voice insisted. The killer walked slowly from the alley, grinning, his dead eyes reflecting only the light of the street lamps. Bruce opened his eyes slowly, and looked down. He saw his parents lying very still. "Mom, Dad," he mouthed silently without saying aloud. But he knew they would never answer him again.

Within minutes, sirens sounded, as police cars pulled up. They found the young boy on his knees, in shock, beside the bodies of his parents. The one in charge, named Detective Jim Gordon was leading them. He immediately recognized the bodies of Dr. Thomas Wayne and Martha Wayne, and shook his head sadly. He glanced down forlornly at the poor child.

He knelt beside him, and gently put an arm around his shoulders. "C'mon, son," he said quietly. Bruce rose to his feet shakily, allowing Detective Gordon to led him away. Gordon opened the door of his patrol car, seating Bruce on the passenger seat. "Ambulance been called?" he asked a patrolman quietly.

"Yes, sir," the patrolman replied quietly. Gordon nodded, and said, "Send someone to Wayne Manor and tell Mr. Alfred Pennyworth what happened. He's the family butler." The patrolman nodded, and walked quickly away. After about two minutes, an ambulance pulled up, with its lights flashing. As the medical examiner pronounced the Waynes dead, the paramedics dutifully loaded the bodies onto the stretchers, and covered them each respectfully. They rolled them each to the waiting ambulance, its back doors open.

Bruce watched the whole thing from the patrol car. "Mom, dad," he said tearfully. Detective Gordon quickly but quietly got into the driver's seat and embraced the boy. "It's alright. It'll be alright," he said, feeling horrible for the young man. He started up the car and drove to the Gotham Police Station.

Gordon parked, and gently led Bruce to sit in front of his desk in his office. He knelt before him, offering him hot cocoa, which immediately warmed Bruce some, but did nothing for his aching heart. He immediately called Wayne Manor at his desk. Alfred answered. He quietly instructed Mr. Pennyworth to come to the station to claim Bruce.

"Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth," Gordon said, and softly hung up. "How you doing, son?" Gordon asked. Bruce barely shrugged. Gordon nodded. "Hey," he said. "I know it doesn't seem like it now, but the world has not ended. It'll be okay. It's not now, but it will be."

After almost twenty minutes, Alfred appeared, Gordon waving him over to his desk. Alfred nodded, and headed to Gordon's office. He knelt in front of Bruce, and embraced him. He then gently put an arm around Bruce's shoulders, to lead him to the car outside. He began to drive to Wayne Manor.

As they arrived, Alfred quietly got out, opened Bruce's door, and gently led him to the double front doors. The house looked dark and gloomy now to Bruce. When they stepped inside, the house thundered with the absence of his parents, as he knew they would never set foot in there again, the home in which they had raised him with love. Bruce finally collapsed into Alfred's arms sobbing. "I couldn't..." was all he managed.

Alfred just held him in silence, understanding instantly. "No, lad, no," he replied. "It was NOT your fault at all. It was entirely that man's. You are not alone in this, love." "I miss them so much," Bruce said. His first complete sentence since the events of that night.

"So do I, young sir. They were not only my employers, but my family too. Come, lad." Alfred carried Bruce to the nearest guest bedroom, and upon removing his shoes, simply laid him on the bed. He was already out like a light, from the grief and stress of the evening. Alfred was relieved that Bruce had that temporary relief at least. Alfred returned to the double front doors, locking them, and sat in a chair just outside Bruce's room, as a vigil in case he needed him.

Soon, Alfred nodded off himself in the chair. A scream awoke Alfred at about 3 AM. Alfred rushed in to catch Bruce as he sat up in bed. "I saw my mom and dad," Bruce wept. Alfred just held him lovingly and protectively at the same time, soothing him, his presence alone seeming to soothe him, until Bruce went back to sleep.

At 7 AM, the phone rang. Alfred answered quickly so the ringing wouldn't disturb Bruce; Alfred wanted him to sleep as much as he needed. "Hello, Wayne Manor," he said. "Mr. Pennyworth, Detective Gordon here," Gordon said on the other end. "Mr. Pennyworth, we need someone to identify the bodies. We figured it would be best if it's you."

Alfred sighed. "I understand," he said. "I know," Gordon replied. "But I need someone to watch Master Bruce," Alfred began. "You can bring him here to the station. I'll keep an eye on him," Gordon replied. "Thank you, sir," Alfred said. "We'll be on our way soon." "Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth," Gordon said with compassion. He hung up.

Alfred hung up. Bruce had just woken, and had padded out to where Alfred was. "Alfred?" he asked. "Yes, young master," Alfred said. "Detective Gordon just called. We must see to a matter involving your parents." Bruce, to his surprise, simply nodded. "Well, first, we must return to the police station," Alfred explained.

"I understand," Bruce said. "Why?" "You'll see when we arrive, young sir," Alfred explained. "Okay," Bruce said. "I'll get ready." "I'll wait right here, lad," Alfred said reassuringly.

After five minutes, Bruce emerged, ready, and he and Alfred returned to the Rolls-Royce. Alfred started the vehicle, and they returned to the Gotham Police Station. When they arrived, and headed inside, Gordon was waiting to greet them. He shook Alfred's hand, and nodded at Bruce. "Do you know why you're back here?" he asked Bruce.

Bruce shook his head. Gordon explained, "Alfred is just going to do an errand, and needed us to sit you." Bruce nodded. "Now, we'll sit at my desk here, while Alfred does another errand," he said, nodding at Alfred. Bruce sat in the same seat he had the night before.

He liked Gordon. Gordon was a nice looking man, who had already seen a lot, yet he had never lost any of his compassion and empathy. "I'll be back very soon, young sir," Alfred said reassuringly. "I promise. I'm only going to do one thing." Bruce nodded. "It'll be alright, young sir," Alfred added. "Sure will," Gordon said. Bruce relaxed.

"So, what's something you like to do," Gordon asked. "I like board games and cards," Bruce said. Gordon nodded. "So do I," he replied. He produced a deck of cards. "Wanna play a game or two until Alfred gets back?" Bruce nodded eagerly.

Alfred drove apprehensively to the city morgue, his heart heavy with this deed he knew must be done. As he parked, he breathed deeply, and headed for the the front doors. It was a beautiful building, if one didn't know the grim business inside. As he entered, an attendant was there to greet him. He asked, "Can I help you, sir?"

"Yes. I'm here to identify the bodies of Thomas and Martha Wayne," Alfred replied. "Ah, Mr. Pennyworth. Detective Gordon told us to expect you. Follow me, please," he said, headed down a hallway. Alfred followed him to a room off the hall, many shelves here. The attendant pulled out two shelves side by side, and lifted the sheets from each face. He looked up at Alfred.

"Is this them, sir?" Alfred looked at the faces, and felt tears rise to his eyes as he gazed upon the beloved faces of both his employers and his friends who were so close they might as well be family. Anger and grief at the same time moved through him, that this had happened to them, and the magnitude. After a silence, Alfred merely nodded. "Yes, they are," he said quietly.

The attendent nodded, and covered the faces again. Alfred turned and left the morgue. When he returned to the police station, and Gordon's office, Gordon looked up and grinned at him. "Your little man's here quite a card sharp," he chuckled. Alfred nodded, managing to feebly return the smile, and asked Bruce, "Ready, lad?" Bruce nodded.

"Thank you, Detective Gordon," Alfred said. Gordon nodded. "Anything I can do, don't hesitate to call," he replied. Alfred nodded gratefully, and steered Bruce back to the car. The two of them returned to Wayne Manor.

Three days later was the funeral at St. Michael's Cathedral, where the Waynes had attended service each Sunday. It was a beautiful church, perhaps the oldest in Gotham City. It held two giant bells, and countless stained glass windows. At the front, near the altar, two coffins covered with roses rested. Bruce sat beside Alfred in the front pew.

Also in attendance were several of Bruce's friends from school, quite a few of the Waynes' friends, including Dr. Wayne's colleagues from the hospital. Detective Gordon was also in attendance, as were a few Gotham Police, to provide as escorts. A priest stepped forward to begin the service. "We come here to honor Tom and Martha Wayne," he began. "They were a very philanthropic couple, who gave their hearts to the most needy."

The priest gave a few blessings, and requested, "Now is the time, for any who would like to speak of them." Right then, one at a time, a couple of fellow doctors from the hospital rose and each gave a eulogy of Dr. Wayne. They each spoke of what an excellent surgeon he was, his wonderful bedside manner, how popular he was with both staff and patients, and above all, a wonderful person and friend he was. A couple of the Waynes' personal friends, before finally, Alfred took his turn to eulogize.

"I knew the Waynes as more than employees," he began. "They were also like family when they hired me." He paused, then continued. "I was there when their beautiful son Bruce was born, and have had the blessing of watching him grow along with them." He glanced at Bruce, who nodded back, with a little smile. "And I think of him as a friend and son myself."

The mourners were touched. The priest read some Biblical verses, and said, "The Waynes' lives are changed, not ended." Bruce thought, _I wish I could believe that._ The priest walked around the caskets, blessing them with water. The music began to play again.

The pallbearers began to wheel the caskets down the aisle, to the hearses outside. Alfred walked with Bruce, with his arm around him, as they entered the limousine that would follow the hearses to the cemetery. The other mourners quietly either entered their own vehicles to follow. The hearses each started, and began to move. The limousine followed, along with all the other vehicles.

Gordon and the rest of the police provided traffic escort along the way to the cemetery. All the cars in the procession had their headlines on. Alfred and Bruce sat quietly during the trip, only glancing at one another, but not speaking. The funeral party arrived at the cemetery. The pallbearers began to remove the coffins.

Bruce and Alfred exited the limousine, and followed them, as did the mourners. At the graves side by side, the priest intoned, "May God bless, and keep them in His Heavenly Kingdom, with the angels by their side. In Jesus' Name, amen." "Amen," the mourners replied, crossing themselves. Bruce at this point was all cried out. The caskets began to lower into the graves.

 _I will never forget you,_ Bruce thought. The grave diggers began to shovel dirt into the graves. Alfred, Bruce, and the mourners turned away, to return to the limo and their vehicles. Gordon saw the look on Bruce's face, and thought, _I know. But you will never be alone._ He nodded to the other men, and they escorted the funeral party to Wayne Manor for a reception.

It was a nice reception, with people socializing. Bruce knew they meant well, but it was too much after a few minutes. He discreetly retreated to his bedroom. After the last guest had left, it was a relief. After cleaning up, Alfred checked on Bruce.

"How are you, lad?" he asked. "Better, thanks, Alfred," Bruce replied. Alfred nodded. "Long day, wasn't it, young sir?" "Totally," Bruce agreed.

Two days later, Alfred and Bruce appeared in court. It was down to the final decision of the day. The judge declared, "The court grants custody of the child to one Alfred Pennyworth to be his legal guardian, henceforth." Alfred nodded. Bruce hugged Alfred, knowing this would be perfect, and only fair.

That night, Bruce was in his bedroom, gazing at the full moon out of his open window. _I miss you both so much,_ he thought. There was still some sadness, mixed with rage. _It was not fair what happened to them. How dare that man take them from me! I don't know what the answer is, but there will be justice somehow._ Almost immediately, he heard a strange fluttering, flapping sound.

Bruce froze. "What is that?" he whispered softly, fearfully. Without warning, the owner of the sound appeared, a flying creature. A bat. Terrified, Bruce scuttled backward, raising his arms protectively before his face.

Bruce opened his mouth to scream, then paused, and peeked through his fingers. The bat continued to fly about the room, and while the bat indeed looked scary to young Bruce, it also looked...strangely beautiful. Like an angel protector of the night. The bat landed on the window seal, and simply gazed in Bruce's direction silently. Bruce lowered his hands, and returned its gaze.

His fear had gone, and curiosity remained. He liked the look of this terrifying, yet gorgeous night creature. Something spoke inside him. _We are one._ At this moment, both instantly and forever, he knew his destiny. A dark smile began to spread across his face. _I know who I am now._


End file.
